


The Stuff of Dreams

by OnyourRadar



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Plot holes?, Sillyness, Strangers to Lovers, at least I attempted, hidden identities (for like a hot sec), humor?, is there even a plot to this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyourRadar/pseuds/OnyourRadar
Summary: Lucas moves and meets the people in his neighborhood. There's this one guy though....
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 10
Kudos: 72





	The Stuff of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xJane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xJane/gifts).



> listen I plan to upload maybe some bonus conversations to clear somethings up but the main story is there.

"No mama I'm settling in fine," Lucas shifts the phone so it rests between his cheeks and shoulder. His hands are busy balancing two boxes filled with miscellaneous objects. 

It was the last two boxes that he pulled from his car. He still had quite a bit to unpack, but it's only been a week since he moved into this cozy little house in a remote neighborhood just on the outskirts of the city. 

"No I don't need the help, mama—practically done unpacking." He does his best to reassure her that he was happy. That he was eating just fine. No he hasn't made friends just yet but,

"Mama, that takes time."

When she finally lets him go, Lucas gets to work, building up a sweat as he moves around furniture, clears boxes and takes inventory of things he still needs to make things feel just right. Though he enjoys the space, it was quite big for one person. He doesn't think more on that fact and continues losing himself in the motions. 

He is not sure how much time passes by the time the ache in his shoulders and back make itself known but he stops when there is a soft knock on his do

"Coming!" He shouts. Lucas clears his throat and bushes his hair away from his face. He can feel the warmth of his skin and figures he looks an absolute mess—wild hair, blotchy face, sweat slick skin, gleaming in the hot afternoon light. 

_ That's okay _ , he thinks,  _ no one to impress here.  _

Because he doesn't know anyone in the neighborhood yet. But honestly, anyone who is scared away by a little sweat and hard work probably isn't worth it.  So Lucas doesn't bother trying to fix himself up. When he opens the door, he sees the back of a man, broad shoulders filling out a god awful ugly suit jacket in orange plaid. He looks down the length of the strangers body, long legs, thick thighs hugged by matching trousers. 

"C-can I help you?" 

When the taller man turns, movements a little stuttered as his two piece suit is pulled in an unnatural twist, Lucas almost melts at the sight of such a striking face. Ruffled hair catching the light just right and a smile that dripped sunshine. 

Heavy steel blue eyes that were framed with the sweetest laugh lines. It could be his heat addled brain but it looks like those eyes give Lucas a once over before his smile widens just the slightest. Lucas is sure the other is taller than him, but he stands at least two steps down on Lucas' small porch. 

In his hands he holds a grinning gnome statue. 

"Hello! Welcome to the neighborhood. If I could steal a moment of your time— you see good sir, today I have an offer that you won't be able to refuse." 

Lucas looks from the grinning gnome to the over enthusiastic salesman standing in front of him. If his voice wasn't so soothing to listen to, if it wasn't laced with such genuine kindness, Lucas would have already closed the door and dead bolted it. 

But something kept him rooted, staring intently, and having mixed feelings as he watched pure happiness cross over the face of an angel, but momentary disgust would unsettle his stomach whenever Lucas happen to look down and catch sight of that unsightly orange. 

"We have sold thousands—"

"Thousands?"

"—thousands, and our customers have praised this product for being an amazing addition to their front lawns—" 

Lucas looks over the other man's shoulders, taking in the lawns and how gnome-less they sit.

"—simultaneously welcoming and scary enough to scare off any unwanted vermin. Now this product fea—"

"How much?" Lucas asks. He leans against his door, arms crossed and he watches as the man pauses, mouth slightly open and shocked. 

"What?"

Lucas cocks a brow, a smile crawling its way onto his face at the cute confused look. 

"How much?" he says, slower. 

"Oh, uh—yes. The price. Three installments of 79.99 and this gnome is yours. Lifetime guarantee as well." 

Lucas' eyes widen and he looks at the shitty ceramic statue that looks like it was pulled straight from the shelves of a dollar store. 

"I'm all se—" 

"It looks like you need sometime to think about this and that is perfectly fine! If you decide to change your mind please feel free to call and I'll be back with a sample of our finest selection." 

Lucas watches as he slowly backs up, walking down the steps without pausing with his sales pitch and before Lucas can say anything else the man is gone, having practically sprinted down the street and turning the corner. He isn't sure how long he stands there, fingers picking at his lips as he replays the interaction in his mind. He shakes his head and closes the door. 

He lets it slip from his mind as he loses himself in the motions of unpack boxes and settling into his new home. 

He would have forgotten the entire encounter completely had it not been for the fact that just the next day, at 10 in the morning just as he was getting ready to sit and eat a late breakfast, Lucas is interrupted by a loud knock at his door. He huffs but stands to answer. 

And there he is. 

The same man from yesterday, hair tamed and combed neatly. Lucas narrows his eyes, as he takes the other in. The man would look absolutely stunning if it weren't for the powder blue suit he adorned. He looked just like a model that jumped off the page of an old 70s catalog selling prom suits, complete with the wide shoulder blades and hideously fake flower pinned to his breast pocket. 

In his hands he held a briefcase. 

"Fine weather we're having today, isn't that right, sir? I was just driving by—"

Lucas feels thrown for a second as the man acts as if he has never seen Lucas in his life. Maybe it was Lucas who was losing it. Maybe it  _ was  _ a different person and he made up the whole encounter yesterday. 

"You look like someone who could use a nice set of silver plated spoons to make your kitchen truly come together." 

Lucas looks on, puzzled as the salesman opens up the briefcase to reveal spoons, held in place by little silver twine and placed against a puke green backing. He catches the disgust on his face from the gleaming chrome finish of a rather large soup spoon and does his best to pull it together. 

"As you can see, these spoons and their superior designs have been built to last. Gone are those rusty spoons of old." He pulls one out of its designated slot and closes the case, placing it down at his feet as he holds up the spoon for Lucas to examine. 

Like Lucas has never seen a spoon before. 

"Ever try to scoop frozen ice cream and your spoon just bends and snaps? Well, these are strong, durable—" 

He bends the spoon and it warps. As if not expecting the spoon to break so easily, the man's eyes widen and his speech stutters to a stop. 

Lucas can barely contain his snort and when he realizes that those eyes have snapped up to regard him, Lucas tries his best to cover his face with his hand and coughs, looking away. 

Without taking his eyes off Lucas, the man tosses the bent spoon over his shoulders without missing a beat. 

"Oh, well, it looks like I've taken with me a defective batch. Let me—"

"I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?" Lucas shouts but the man is already bowing out. Doing the same backwards walk and when he reaches it, he bends down to pick up the spoon he had discarded not minutes ago.

He doesn't bother answering and instead, just as he hits the sidewalk, he bolts. The briefcase jostling in his grip.  It becomes routine. A different day and a different suit that is an eyesore . At some point Lucas answers his door ready with questions on the latest product. Questions that the man never answers.

"What company is selling heat resistant oven mitts?"

  
  


He doesn't know if this is some kind of joke, a welcome to the neighborhood stunt. But Lucas can't deny he starts to look forward to whatever was happening. It's three weeks in and he lounges on his couch in his sweats waiting. He feels a little silly, giddy almost for the fact that he still hasn't gotten the man's name, but he has, on multiple occasions, stood there and listened to him ramble about a vacuum cleaner. 

He was a horrible salesman but a cute one.  When he hears the knock Lucas stretches, his joints popping and he contemplates putting on a shirt and talks himself out of it. Lucas is almost positive that there are moments when he opens that door and those eyes widen slightly, where his mystery man holds onto the breath inside him as he tries to regain functionality of his mouth and brain. 

Whatever he thinks in that split second, Lucas likes it. It warms him and maybe that's why he doesn't mind all these awkward encounters. He already promised himself, he would demand a name the next time he shows up. 

Lucas prepares his little speech just as he throws open his door. 

What he is not expecting is the surprised shout and squeal at his state of undress. He quickly pulls his sweats up high, almost to his belly button, and his hand slaps against his bare chest in an attempt to hide. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, j-just, shit—one second." He slams the door, his heart hammering against his ribs as he dashes across the house to find a shirt to throw on. 

Lucas cards his fingers through his hair trying to look a little put together as he slowly opens the door again. 

Five sets of eyes regard him and he is sure he is glowing from embarrassment. 

"Can I help you?" 

"If you answer your door like that all the time, we should have come over sooner. Emma, nice to meet you!" 

Emma tucks her hair behind her ear before holding out a hand in greeting. She balances a plate of brownies in the other hand. 

"Lucas." He introduces himself, still looking contrite about nearly bearing his everything to these poor girls. 

"This here is Manon, Alexia, Imane, and Daphne. We saw you recently moved in and thought we would stop by to welcome you to the neighborhood." She holds up the plate of brownies enticingly and besides her, Manon offers a casserole dish. 

"We brought wine! If you're interested of course, but if you're  _ busy _ or if you are  _ expecting _ someone else we can always come back."

Lucas bites his lips and shakes his head. 

"No, no please come in." 

He steps aside and they file in one by one, all with smiles and secretive grins. He sets them up in his kitchen and grabs a couple of mugs from his cabinets. 

"Haven't picked up any wine glasses just yet so you'll have to forgive." 

Alexia holds up her mug and clinks it with Manon's laughing. 

"Classy." 

"So how do you like the neighborhood so far." 

He finds it easy to converse with the girls. Perhaps, he has the wine to thank for that but he is comfortable. Imane points out the house diagonal from his, where she lives with her brother and some of his friends. 

Manon lives down the street with Alexia and Emma, and Daphne shares an apartment with her boyfriend around the corner.

"This neighborhood is pretty chill, it's the kind of place where everyone knows everyone and every once in a while we throw this huge block party." 

Daphne giggles into her mug just as Emma finishes talking. 

"You should come to the next one, it's actually tomorrow. And you could always bring someone if you want to." Daphne suggests with a non discreet wiggle of her brows.

"Maybe bring whoever it was that you were waiting for earlier." Manon throws out, high-fiving Alexia when Lucas chokes on his wine. 

"Yeah, Lucas, not like you need to spill your whole life story since we just met, but is there anyone?" 

He takes a second to take in his kitchen, crowded with unfamiliar faces but he feels welcomed, like he's known these girls for years.

He twirls his glass. 

"No, it's not someone per se," he smiles when he catches Imane rolling her eyes. 

"A complicated love story, star crossed lovers? Out with it. No judgement here." She urges him on. 

And he spills. He tells them everything. About this stranger who he still doesn't know the name of. How he likes the way he speaks, voice all soothing, words spoken. 

"Horrible salesman, but he's super cute. Although his choice in suits can really use some work." Lucas wrinkles his nose as he recalls when his stranger showed up in the combination of a mustard yellow suit jacket and lime green trousers. 

"Wait, suits?" Imane asks, leaning in closer. "Tell me more." 

He has the girls in stitches at his descriptions. Imane grows quiet but the smile never leaves her face. 

"Do any of you know him?" He directs the question at her but keeps it open. 

Imane cocks her head to the side and shares a look with Manon. 

"I've lived here for 5 years, not once have I seen a hot and ill-dressed salesman." Alexia speaks up. Manon nods her head in kind.

"I plan on asking him for a date the next time he shows up." Lucas blushes at the catcalls and Emma's excited squeal. 

"After all this time, finally something interesting happening in this little neighborhood. You'll have to tell us all about it." 

They stay for a while longer, finishing off the two bottles of wine. Daphne tells him all about the good eats around the area and Manon and Alexia offer to take him some time.

He walks them to the door as all the noises of the night sound louder, amplified by the alcohol. 

"No but seriously, this was fun. And we'll meet you here and head over to the block party together. This way you don't have to show up alone." 

He thanks them and waits until they've all disappeared around the corner or into their respective homes. He closes the door and, resting his forehead against, Lucas smiles to himself. 

It feels nice. To have something like this. Something he can call his own, a place that is welcoming; not cold or distant. Not finishing his days out in monochrome. Lucas moves back into the kitchen, and, not wanting to lose this feeling, he grabs the half empty bottle of vodka in his cabinets and pours himself a shot; a silent toast to something going right. 

When he drinks it down he winces. The taste of it reminding him of horrible colors that clash on cheap blends of polyester. 

It makes him think of the sweet-eyed stranger, never having really anything to say but saying so much—speaking nonsense just to stay in Lucas’ space for a minute longer. 

It tastes like nothing, because Lucas still doesn’t know his name and he wants to, so badly. 

He takes another shot, and another. Because it tastes like utter disappointment. Disappointment that his stranger didn't show up to try and sell him another god awful contraption. 

Like a vase or something. 

He doesn't quite want to admit that maybe the disappointment stems from the fact that hearing that overly excited voice was the best part of his day. 

Lucas lies down in his kitchen and presses his cheek against the tiled floor as he huffs a breath. His world spins in a swirl of wine and vodka. 

He counts dancing spoons and envisions a bright smile and headful of roasted chestnut locks. The sound of rapping against his door rouses him from his stupor and for a second he blinks all the sounds away. 

The lights in his kitchen are too bright. When he blinks again he's staring into the eyes of the very man he was cursing in his head. A sudden warmth fills him and he smiles wide. 

Lucas touches his face to chase away the numbness, giggling when those pretty eyes blink owlishly at him. His world tilts just right as he takes in the sight before him.

His stranger in a pink velvet suit. It was hideous. 

"It's, uh, salmon." 

Lucas snorts at the word. It makes the suit look uglier when he thinks,  _ salmon _ . 

"I mean, you won't get an argument from me." 

"Are you talking to yourself?" Lucas asks. He crosses his arms and tries to lean on his door frame. He misses and stumbles. 

A pair of warm hands move quickly to steady him. His vision goes in and out as his face grows hot. 

He is acutely aware of just how close they stand what with him practically pressed up against Eliott and everything was very,  _ very _ warm.

"Lucas, are you drunk?"

"Mm, drunk would mean I was drinking." Lucas mumbles, cheeks rubbing against the velvet.

God, it was so ugly but so  _ soft.  _

"Were you?"

"Was I what?"

Velvet was God's gift to the world. 

"Drinking, Lucas I need you to focus."

Yes. 

He shakes his head. "No." 

"I'm going to take your first answer as the correct one. You should really get to bed." 

"Mmk, help me."

Lucas looks up and blinks slowly at him. 

"I still don't know your name and we've talked at least a hundred times." He smacks his lips and unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth. 

"Am I slurring?"

"You're slurring."

He giggles. He really wasn't slurring. 

"A-are you going to sell me something or what?"

Because he's been waiting. All day for this and he definitely wasn't going to bed before he had his chance to listen to this man talk. 

His salesman smiles softly at him. Against the night and the shining light that illuminates his face, all Lucas can think is,

"You're really pretty. What's your name."

"Eliott."

" _ Eliott _ ." He tries the taste of it on his tongue and likes it. 

Eliott rubs the back of his neck bashful.

Lucas follows the motion, mesmerized. He attempts to lean again and this time he finds the sturdiness of the frame. 

"What do you have for me today,  _ Eliott?"  _

Eliott beams at him, voice soft like he doesn't want to startle Lucas.

"For two installments of 52.50, you could have your very own set of wooden placemats. Eating and you accidentally spill? No worries—"

Lucas blinks and when he opens his eyes he immediately closes them against the glare of the sun. He tosses his arm across his face and groans, immediately regretting it as the sound bounces around inside his head. 

Lucas immediately places one foot on the ground to center himself and as soon as the world stops spinning, he peeks out from behind his arm at his night stand. 

He finds the time to read 10 am and a glass of water with his name on it. He is surprised by his due diligence while drunk and slowly sits up and downs the water.

It is refreshing against his throat and helps to wash away the horrible taste in his mouth. 

He doesn't recall throwing up but when he sees the empty bottle of vodka, he thinks it might have been a possibility.

It takes him the rest of the morning to regain any sense of worth. By noon he forces himself up and goes for a run, doing his best to sweat out the alcohol. 

It would do him no good to show to a block party still hungover from the previous night. 

He keeps himself busy until the girls arrive and they give him a once over. He was, unfortunately in his running clothes and was a complete mess. 

"If you're trying to make a fashion statement…"

He flips off Emma and rightful, she smiles back at him. 

"How about you go shower and we'll dig through your closet for something to wear." Imane shoos Lucas away, a smirk playing on her lips. "You can trust Manon here, it's literally her job to dress people." 

Lucas rolls his eyes at their antics. Playing dressing with girls he just met sounds like a dangerous game, but he'll bite. 

"I'm not responsible for anything you find in my closet." 

He chooses to ignore Alexia and Daphne's squeals of  _ kinky _ . He really wasn't hiding anything. The thought that he was being too trusting crosses his mind, but for once he trusts his guts. He doesn't put to much of a fuss as he pulls on the black sweats that Manon lays out for him, thankful that she chose something comfortable. 

He pulls on his grey tee with the words  _ Romance  _ splashed across his chest in white letters. 

He felt ready to lounge or ready to throw down at a party all at once. 

"Figured you wanted to just feel comfortable—you looked a little rough." 

He huffs a laugh as Manon bumps shoulders with him on one side and Imane on the other. They follow the three down the street. 

He hears music lumping through the air and catches the scent of barbeque, sizzling on a grill. As they get closer there are adults milling around and waving at them as they pass. Children dart across the streets chasing one another, laughing. The whole scene felt unreal. 

Warm. He liked it. 

"These parties, you really get to know everyone. It's nice like that." 

Imane smiles at him, knowingly and he smirks back before turning his eyes forward. 

"It's different from back home." But not bad. He likes the change. "It's just odd that I don't really know anybody." 

She nudges him.

"You know us, right? Besides, change is good. And you're about to get to know my brother and his friends." 

She gestures with her chin and Lucas trips on his own feet when he sees what she points towards. There, in the center of the group, surrounded by a group of boys was his salesman. Looking decidedly normal. 

Dressed in fitting denim jeans and combat boots, and a black tee. He was smiling and nursing a beer, head thrown back laughing at whatever joke was being told.

He takes a swig of his beer and just as Lucas gets closer, those familiar eyes, striking as they were, catches sight of Lucas over his bottle and widens in surprise.

It's a scramble of limbs for a second as his mystery man looks left, then right for a way out. Just as Lucas reaches the group with the girls, a frown on his face, he tosses his beer at one of his friends and has already made a break for it. 

Disappearing between houses and yards, leaving Lucas—and really, everyone, all the more confused. When he looks at the faces in the group there is an equal amount of confusion

"W-who was that. The one who just ran away?" 

  
  


"Who? Eliott?" Emma responds, she looks around at the group. 

Eliott.

_ Eliott _ . 

Lucas feels punch drunk as flashes of the night before filter through his mind like a silent film. He feels the urge to violently throw up as he is assaulted with the color salmon, of all things. The echo of a voice, honey on bark, saying,  _ “Eliott” _ , 

His voice echoing back the name like the call of a siren, only, it was slurred and not so beautiful. 

“That’s him, that’s—” Lucas looks at the group of boys he has never met before, to Imane who has her chin tucked, hand shading her face, lips down turned. There are unsure smiles all around all. 

“ _ Wait _ !” He turns his glare to Alexia and Daphne, both their eyes wide as if they’ve just come to some realization. “Eliott is your salesman? The horribly dressed salesman that you plan on asking out on a date?” 

He feels an instant blush get the better of him as the gazes on him intensify. 

"Well, fuck me. I didn't see that coming." He turns eyes on Emma who shrugs at him, her green eyes wide, lips stretched wide with a smile. “This is perfect—Lucas, he’s been talking about this mystery boy for  _ weeks _ and the fact it’s been you this whole time is fucking fate, I’m telling you.”

Something on his face makes her falter. It makes Alexia and Daphne pause and Manon to look away while she bites her lips. It makes Imane appear to shrink like she made the connection some time ago. Like she knew and didn’t say. 

“You have no clue what’s going on do you?” Emma questions. 

He doesn’t. Everything seems to be getting more confusing by the second and Lucas just wants answers. He doesn’t want to have that feeling, nestled in the pit of his stomach that someone was going to jump out and say “surprise!”

He doesn’t get a chance to respond as a boy, taller than him, walks up and slings his arm across Lucas’ shoulders.

“Idriss, and  _ you, _ must be the man of the hour, Lucas Lallemant.” The sing-song voice makes Lucas feel a dense wariness in his bones. 

Idriss does the introductions. There is Yann. 

Arthur. 

Basile. 

Sofiane. 

There is no Eliott because he bolted. Ran away like some common thief. He ran like he always does after Lucas asks too many questions about the koozies he tried to get Lucas to buy. Or the ski goggles that Lucas would have no use for, here in the middle of summer and hours away from any such place where he could experience snow. 

_ “Do they come in any color?” _

_ “What outrageous price do you have for me today?” _

What are you really doing here on my doorstep, he wants to ask.

Dressed in complete nonsense, dripping with a smile that warms Lucas from the inside out.

“I bet you’ve got a lot of questions.” 

Lucas snorts, feeling that sense of dread seep away as he takes the beer that Idriss holds out to him. It quenches his thirst and successfully soothes the panic he felt. 

“You have no idea.” He mutters, fingers gripping loosely at the neck of his bottle. 

  
  


*

“No, I just put it in. What? No, I didn’t. Should I?”

Lucas holds the phone in one hand as he sets the timer on his over. His mother’s voice filters through repeating the directions to him. 

“ _ It should fall off apart when you run the fork through it gently. That’s how you know it’ll be done.” _

“You mean maul it with a fork right?” He chuckles at her grunt of displeasure. 

“ _ Gently.” _

Lucas could practically see the way she mouths the words as she stares up at the ceiling. 

“Okay, okay. Tear it apart. I got it,” He chuckles at her exasperated sigh and quickly mollifies her. “I’m joking, but mama I do have to go get cleaned up.” 

“ _ I’m glad you’re settling in nicely.” _

Honestly he is surprised, himself. How easy things are. After the block party, the first thing he realized was how short his contact list had been and just how long it grew by the nights' end. 

"I'm happy too, mama." And he means it. More than he thought he would ever. 

It takes him another 5 minutes before he ends the call and moves to get ready. 

It's a matter of hours before he finishes cleaning up the house and making himself look presentable.

The oven clock tells him with bright green numbers, he has 20 minutes before he  _ gently _ fluffs the pot roast, to ensure readiness. 

His phone rings just as he sets his wine glasses on the counter, ones he bought just that morning. He sees Emma's name flash on screen and he quickly answers. 

"Hello."

" _Lucas_ , _how are_ _you?"_

The laughter in the background brings a small smile to his face. 

"Good, just about to set the table."

" _ Hold off on that, there's been a change of plans." _

He pauses and frowns. Because really, he can't change the fact that he made a whole ass pot roast. Got the recipe from his own mother for this dinner that all the girls  _ and  _ the boys told him they would come to. 

" _ We can't make it." _

"There better be a good reason." He grumbles but he knows shit comes up. He can't blame them. 

" _ Oh but there is—" _

There's a slight scuffle he hears over the phone, a distant shout and more laughter before he is sure he hears Alexia and Manon on the other line. 

" _ Imane caught wind that Eliott is on his way over to your place."  _ Manon calls out a little breathless at the same time as Alexia. Their voices blending and harmonizing in their excitement.

"Wait, what?" He asks, alarmed. He hears the shout of " _ give me the phone".  _ Another scramble before there is a huff sounding in his ears.

" _ Lucas _ ?" Imane's voice calls out. 

"Imane…"

" _ Listen carefully, Idriss might have seen Eliott shifting through his suits. And no, none of us said anything to him last night. You don't have that much time before Eliott shows up."  _

_ "We didn't want to be there when you jump his bones!" _

Lucas covers his face with his hands breathe catching as his face grows hot. 

"What am I supposed to do." He groans feeling like time was short and he was no where near ready. 

" _ Go take a shower and answer the door naked!"  _

He snorts when he hears Emma's suggestion. Lucas has half the mind to do just that. But really, he just wants answers. 

He wants to have a regular conversation where he is not left with more questions or left to wonder when Eliott would stop by next. 

He wants simultaneously for Eliott to make the first move because Lucas doesn't know if he is reading into it too closely, all these interactions he has there, on his doorstep. 

"Thanks for keeping me in the loop, you'll have to stop by tomorrow for the food."

There was no way he'd finish everything on his own. He lets them go so he could play the waiting by himself. Fingers tapping restlessly on the kitchen counter, his eyes moving from the floor to the door every so often. 

The oven timer goes off just as he hears that gentle rapping on his door and he feels a momentary panic root him in place. 

The knocking sounds again and that insistent beeping of the timer screeches at him, cutting through the rushing of his pulse and he moves quickly to turn off the oven.

Patting down his hair, Lucas huffs a breathe before he moves to open the front door. 

He wasn't sure what he was expecting but Eliott in a bright red tux and a silky purple tie, his head covered by a wide fedora, was not it. 

"I'm sorry to bother you on this beautiful morning but I think I have an offer that would more than make up for this. You see I was just in the neighborhood—"

Yes. Just across the street, Lucas wants to respond. But he waits for Eliott to finish his spiel.

"—a five days and four nights, all expense paid trip to Aruba and you are the lucky winner. All you have to do is—"

"What's the catch?"

Because of all the insane products Eliott has attempted to sell to him, this is by far the best pitch he's heard. He looks as Eliott looks closely at the voucher in his hands. Those eyes squinted as he reads the fine prints. 

"I do apologize, it does look like this voucher expired five years ago. If you would let me go and fetch the correct product—I will be back momentarily."

He starts his little backwards walk away, and in a snap second decision, fueled by his need for Eliott to stay, Lucas reaches out to grab at the silky tie and pulls. 

The force of it cause Eliott to fall forward his hands moving quickly to catch himself on the door frame but he leans down, wide eyes and face to face with Lucas. Eliott gasps as Lucas touches their noses together. 

Lucas holds his gaze, no matter how much his face burns from his own unexpected boldness. 

"I'm not interested in Aruba, I have a pot roast in the oven."

"W-what?"

Lucas clenches his eyes shut when he realizes what he just said.

"I mean—it's just that I..." he swallows as he tries to catch all the words that were floating around in a jumbled mess in his mind. "Oh, fuck it." 

He stands a little on his tip toes and presses his lips against slightly parted ones. 

The kiss is sweet. The kind that gets his eyes to flutter close. Where his breath begins to burn as he holds it in because he doesn't want to part just yet. It's the kind of kiss that jumpstarts Eliott and he takes a step closer and his hands cup Lucas' chin. 

"Eliott, would you like to join me for dinner?" Lucas whispers against those soft lips as he forces himself to pull away. "I have a pot roast in the oven." 

"Yes...god yes. I would love to stay for dinner." Eliott chuckles, moving to drop another peck on Lucas' lips. 

Lucas leads Eliott into the house and shuts the door behind them. They have a lot to talk about and Lucas still has a ton of questions but that could happen after they have dinner, after he gets that hideous suit off of Eliott. 

Maybe after some wine and some more kisses. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments? thoughts? I promise things will make sense when I upload the bonus scenes.


End file.
